


Special Order

by operatorrhythmi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operatorrhythmi/pseuds/operatorrhythmi
Summary: "It was rare that Cress ever lost his temper, or even his cool for that matter.  He liked to regard himself as the most levelheaded of the triplet brothers.  Like water, he too always went with the flow."





	

**Author's Note:**

> got tagged in a post on tumblr awhile back and i'm just now getting around to posting it on here lmao 
> 
> http://hydro-kanan.tumblr.com/post/122684309914/robbowmans-robbowmans-my-sister-just-got-hit

            It was rare that Cress ever lost his temper, or even his cool for that matter. He liked to regard himself as the most levelheaded of the triplet brothers. Like water, he too always went with the flow.

            However, when his brothers would tell him that “his favorite person came for another visit”, he would instantly start freaking out. However, it wasn’t an external freak out. All his erratic thoughts stayed just that: thoughts. Every once in awhile, it would cause him to maybe mess up a slice, or over season something, but nothing extreme.

            “If you want to be his server, we’ll gladly let you take over,” his brothers would tell him.

            He would always refuse, though. He was put on cooking duty, and he wouldn’t let some stupid infatuation take him away from that. Even if the person he found himself utterly infatuated with was Siebold. Another chef. A world renowned chef at that. Top of his elite four. A water master.

            It didn’t matter, he would tell himself. Work was too important to let some mindless infatuation consume him.

            It already had, but he wasn’t going to allow himself the luxury of accepting that.

            “You two have talked, though…plenty of times,” Chili reminded, standing with Cress in the kitchen.

            Cress shrugged off the reminder, garnishing the dish he was preparing. “When the international meeting was here in Unova, yes, we did. With all the other water gym leaders. I was leading them around Castelia, just like you did with the fire type gym leaders and elite four.”

            Chili kept his deadpanned expression. “He stuck close to you.”

            “He’s not too fond of all the other water gym leaders,” Cress fought.

            Taking the dish from his brother’s hands, Chili grumbled his way back to the dining room. “I’m settling this right here, right now.” His expression changed upon walking into the dining room.

            The other customers didn’t need to know he was arguing with his brother.

            He took his expertly garnished dish over to where Siebold sat. Cilan had sat him towards the back, and now that other tables had paid and left, it was just the Kalosian chef sitting there.

            “So, Siebold,” he began, not bothering for formalities. He had stopped in enough to where Chili decided it was okay to speak casually with him. “How long are you in Unova?” He asked, setting down the plate.

            Siebold looked up at him. “A few more weeks, actually. I was asked to teach a few more classes, both cooking and water type pokémon related, by the Castelia University.”

            Chili nodded, only pretending to be interested. “Nice, nice. Can I be point-blank with you?”

            “I’ve talked with Malva enough to know you’re going to say whatever is on your mind regardless of what I say.”

            Chili shrugged, accepting the comment. “Can my brother get your number?”

            It wasn’t the question Siebold had anticipated, leaving him momentarily silent. He wouldn’t show his surprise, however. “Which brother? You have two.”

            “Cress,” Chili answered.

            Siebold hummed in response, resting his chin on his hands. “Let me ask you something, first.”

            “Shoot.”

            “In the weeks that I have been coming here, it’s only been you, Cilan, and other servers waiting on my table. But _Cress_ wants my number?” He asked.

            “Cress is stubborn and doesn’t admit he’s attracted to people. It’s his way of avoiding getting nervous around you.”

            “Fair enough,” Siebold admitted, leaning back. “I had hoped he would be my server if this were to happen, but I’ll just take things as they are.”

            Before he could even ask, Chili ripped a piece of paper out of his serving booklet, giving it and his pen to Siebold.   “Thanks man. Dinner’s on the house,” he said, taking the paper and pen back once Siebold had finished.

            “The offer is appreciated, but not necessary.”

            Again, Chili shrugged. “If ya’ need anything else, just let me know!”

            Chili rushed back to the kitchen, snickering to himself the entire way. “Order up, Cress! Special Order!” He said.

            Passing the paper through the window, Chili enjoyed watching the color drain from Cress’s face as he registered the +33 for a Kalos number.

            “E-e-excuse me?” He stammered.

            “Got his number for ya’!” Chili responded.

            All the color rushed back to Cress’s face, particularly his cheeks. “Chili, I’m going to kill you!”

            Chili continued his laughing fit as Cress looked around the prep station for something to throw at Chili. Not wanting to waste any produce, or clean utensils, he decided against it. “I don’t even know what to say right now,” he grumbled.

            “Thank you, maybe?” Chili suggested.

            Cress wasn’t amused. Not in the least. “What did he say when you asked him to give me his number?”

            “Uh, something like ‘I had hoped he would be my server’ blah, blah, blah,” he told him, forcing his voice lower to imitate Siebold.

            The color had yet to vanish from Cress’s cheeks. “I’m going to kill you,” he grumbled, walking over to the dessert prep station.

            Cress peered over the window. “What’cha makin’?” He asked, watching Cress grab a few things from the small fridge.

            “Something just for him, since you’re making me look like a fool.” He continued grumbling to himself, but it was lost on Chili.

            Instead, the youngest brother decided to busy himself with tending to the rest of their customers. He would stop by Siebold’s table, top off his wine, and made sure to stall however long Cress would need him to.

            “Getting close to closing,” Chili warned, wrapping some silverware in their cloths.

            “I’m done,” Cress answered, walking from the back of the kitchen. He had abandoned his apron for a serving tray. “Do I look presentable?” He asked.

            Chili rolled his eyes. “You and I both know I’m not the person to ask. Just go woo him with that damn dessert already.”

            Cress shook his head, trying to not betray any emotion.

            Taking one last deep breath to calm his nerves, Cress headed out to the dining room.

            Siebold looked up at him, his expression softening upon realizing his server was no longer Chili. “I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to grace me with your presence.”

            Cress shrugged, approaching the table. “I apologize for keeping you so late, Siebold.   I wanted to make sure this dessert was an appropriate complement to the meal you just had.”

            Siebold watched carefully as he placed the dessert dish in front of him.

            “I’ve prepared roasted pears with almonds, cranberries, and a white chocolate drizzle.” He looked away from Siebold as he explained, feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck.

            “I must say that I am looking forward to this, but,” Cress’s heart stopped, “you know what I would enjoy even more?” Siebold asked.

            “What might that be?” Cress readied himself to accommodate any request. It didn’t matter how ridiculous.

            “If you would join me.”


End file.
